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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25067032">Love Is Dead. Or Is It?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Pixelberry - Fandom, Save The Date (Visual Novel)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Vaginal Fingering</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:02:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,407</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25067032</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Nora and Monica have decided to postpone the wedding. How will Justin handle the news?</p>
<p>An alternate version of Justin and Lauren's relationship taking place somewhere around chapter 10 that incorporates some elements from the original story and changes others.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Best Man | Nora Mercado's Brother/Main Character (Save The Date)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Love Is Dead. Or Is It?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I know that neither the MC or Justin are particularly well-liked in this story, so I tried to make them a bit more palatable while staying somewhat true to their personalities.</p>
<p>Disclaimer: This story lovingly borrows characters, situations, and/or dialogue from Pixelberry. I do not own these characters or the world they inhabit. This work is intended for entertainment purposes only.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I’m sitting on the couch in my apartment nursing a third glass of wine after my disastrous floral appointment with Nora and Monica this afternoon. Who knew flowers could be so divisive?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I knew that Nora had been having… not doubts, exactly, but hesitations about marrying Monica. I had thought her reluctance was about the act of marriage itself, not about the person she was marrying. But after today’s explosive argument between the two of them, the wedding is off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It's not my fault... Right?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Justin is going to kill me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I glance over at the clock on my wall. It reads 10:28pm. I shrug, then finish off my glass of wine and reach for the nearly empty bottle. There’s still time for me to polish off the rest while mourning the death of my blossoming career as a wedding planner before heading to bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I’m about to tip the rest of the wine into my glass when I hear an insistent knocking at my door. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Knock knock knock</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I freeze, hoping the person will go away. They don’t.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lauren, open up!” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Knock knock knock</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I’d recognize that voice anywhere. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What is he doing here?!</span>
  </em>
  <span> He couldn’t wait until tomorrow to rip me a new one?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I sigh, then set the wine bottle and my glass on the side table. Heaving my warm blanket to the side, I get up from the couch and head towards the door. Not fast enough, apparently.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Knock. Knock.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Lauren Jennings! I know you’re home! Open the door </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” I had been reaching to unlock my door, but I pause for a moment. ...How does Justin know I’m home? I decide to ask him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I quickly unlatch the door and unceremoniously yank it open.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How do you know I’m home, Justin?” I demand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes widen in surprise when he sees my angry face. He lowers his hand, which had been raised and about to pound on my door </span>
  <em>
    <span>again</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and he deigns to look… sheepish? The silence drags on between us, so I raise my eyebrows expectantly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well?” I prompt again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, what?” He asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How do you know I’m home?” I repeat, rolling my eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, that,” he says, running his fingers through his hair. “I… didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> know you were home. I just hoped that you were, and if you were, it seemed like the quickest way to get you to answer the door.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, he was right about that. Justin - 1, Lauren - 0. I cross my arms over my chest and tilt my head, gazing at him. He actually doesn’t seem as angry as I expected him to be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Can I come in?” he asks, glancing down at his feet and sliding his hands into his pockets. No, he’s definitely not angry. And now I’m curious. I step aside and Justin moves past me. I close the door behind me and hesitate for only a second before locking it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I turn around to find Justin standing uncomfortably in the middle of my living room, glancing around my apartment with some curiosity. I forgot that he’s like a millionaire. My flat probably seems shabby compared to whatever penthouse or mansion he lives in. I quietly watch while he looks around, deciding to let him be the first to speak. After all, we haven’t actually spoken since that </span>
  <em>
    <span>incident</span>
  </em>
  <span> a couple weeks ago when he ran off after kissing me outside the cake shop. Let him be the one to break the communication embargo between us.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He seems to realize that I’m watching him because he abruptly whirls around.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have a nice place,” he says awkwardly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks?” I reply. I have a nice place? This place is definitely not nice, especially not compared to what he’s probably used to. What is he playing at? I am not helping him out here.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um, can we sit?” he finally says. “We need to talk.” I like seeing him struggle for what to say. Usually he’s yelling at me about something or other. I’m suddenly feeling in control here, despite the three glasses of wine I’ve had. Hopefully he won’t spot the nearly empty bottle right behind him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I nod and gesture at the couch. He sits, glancing at the side table containing the bottle and empty glass. Damn.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I sit in an armchair a few feet away from him, curling one leg underneath me. Justin looks uncomfortable, sitting forward, his hands clasped between his knees. He exhales loudly, then places his hands on his thighs and leans back against the pillows of the sofa.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I’m still not sure what he’s doing here, so I wait for him to start talking. It doesn’t seem like he came here to yell at me about Nora and Monica—and then it hits me. Maybe he hasn’t heard yet? I certainly don’t want to be the one to tell him, so I’m not bringing it up first.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re probably wondering what I’m doing here,” he begins. Yeah. Got it in one, Justin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wanted to come here to yell at you about Nora and Monica,” he says. Of course you did. I open my mouth to speak, but he holds up a hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“—But… that’s not really what I came here to talk to you about.” I close my mouth and raise my eyebrows in silent question.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> want to talk to you about them at some point, but that’s not why I came here.” He sighs. “I came here to apologize.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I suddenly lean forward in my chair. Am I hearing this right? Justin wants to apologize? To </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>? I must look surprised because he cracks a small smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve never known you to be speechless, Lauren,” he says softly. “Say something.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I shake my head slightly, as if shaking off a daze. I guess maybe that wine has gotten to me more than I realized.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I—uh—” I’m not sure what the right thing to say here is. “What are you apologizing for, exactly?” For firing me? For treating me like crap? For yelling at me? For kissing me? For running away after kissing me? For not calling me back after the voicemail I left for him? You’ve gotta give me more to work with, Justin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want to apologize for everything. I know I haven’t treated you fairly since that first day at Concept Events. But I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that night outside of the cake shop.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Justin…” I start to say, but he stops me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please, now that I’ve started, let me finish, Lauren.” I nod and he continues.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I feel terrible about running off like that after we… you know. And then you left me that voicemail, and I wanted to call you back, but I didn’t know what I could say to make things right.” He seems to be on a roll now, so I let him continue talking. I want to see where this goes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. He does that a lot and it’s sexy as hell. “I just got off the phone with Nora.” Crap. I wince.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He must have seen the expression on my face because he holds up his hand again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She told me what happened today at the flower shop. That she and Monica have... called things off.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Justin—” I begin, but he cuts me off again. Why does he keep interrupting me? It’s getting a little annoying, actually.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lauren, please. Let me finish.” He is looking me directly in the eyes, and his are a deep chocolate brown. I nod again, and he continues, still gazing at me. </span>
  <span>“I don’t blame you for what happened with the wedding. I wanted to, but Nora insisted that you did everything you could to convince them not to end things.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I can’t keep my mouth shut any longer. I always feel like I need to defend my actions around him. “I really did, Justin. You have to believe me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do,” he says, reaching out his hand to grasp mine. What. Is. Happening?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I let him take hold of my hand, but I continue on with my defense. “I don’t exactly know how it happened. One minute they were asking me to help them choose a bouquet arrangement. The next they were arguing. I tried to get them to talk, but…” I end up trailing off because, really, I don’t know what else to say. I tried and I failed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nora told me she had been having doubts for a while, but she kept convincing herself they were just pre-wedding jitters,” he explains. “You remember that day of her dress fitting?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yeah, Justin, of course I remember. The day Dale and Bitsy walked in and you caught me flipping them off. Oh, and also the day we convinced Nora that her nerves were normal and nothing to worry about and</span>
  <em>
    <span> oh god</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I glance up at him, guilt written across my face. He gives me a sympathetic look and squeezes my hand. Which I had forgotten he was holding.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, she had still been having doubts this whole time, even after we convinced her that her worries were nothing. And I guess today everything just boiled over. The wedding—their relationship—is officially on hold.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I know.” I sigh. “Tomorrow I’ll start cancelling all of the arrangements we’ve made: the dress, the cake, the caterer. Oh, and I’ll have to call the venue right away: I don’t know how much we’ll be able to get back because of the short notice. The wedding was only two weeks away. I'm sure they'll probably keep the entire... deposit...” I realize Justin hasn’t interrupted me yet, and I trail off, glancing up at him. His eyes are sparkling with a mischievous glint, and I decide to interrupt myself this time. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s just…” he pauses, looking at me. “That can all wait. All of that can wait until tomorrow. Tonight… I am apologizing for how I treated you. Can you forgive me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looks so earnest. Damn it, Justin. I can't give in so easily.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Justin, do you know what it’s been like for me the past few weeks? I didn’t know why you ran off that night. That kiss had seemed so… right, you know? And then you didn’t return my calls… I just figured you thought it was all a mistake and we were going to pretend it never happened. And after today? Honestly, I thought I'd never hear from any of you again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stands suddenly, his hand still gripping mine, and pulls me to my feet. I rise, surprised by the sudden movement, and untangle my legs, standing unsteadily. Justin pulls me close and puts his other hand on my shoulder, steadying me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lauren, I—you have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that.” Say what? I'm trying to remember what I said that could've provoked this relieved reaction in him, but the wine is still making me feel a bit fuzzy. Then he’s smiling at me, wider than I’ve ever seen him smile. He releases my hand and brings his hand to my face, cupping my cheek and smoothing his thumb across my cheekbone. My heart starts racing a mile a minute.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Justin, what—” And then his mouth is crushed against mine, his lips warm and wet, the kiss soft at first but urgent, too. I bring my hands up and place them on the sides of his face, tilting his head and mine at just the right angles so that our lips fit more easily together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Justin’s other hand moves from my shoulder to my back and he pulls me closer. I can feel the heat radiating off of him. His fingers grasp at my back, and it’s as if he is clutching me to him so I won’t slip away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Justin…” I softly moan his name, and when my lips part, he slips his tongue past them, brushing it gently against mine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mmmmm, Lauren,” is all he murmurs in return, our breaths tangling together like our tongues. Justin tastes of mint, and for a few minutes, the taste of him is all that occupies my mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly, Justin breaks away, pulling back from our kiss. My eyes fly open—when had I closed them?—and my heart skips a beat, flashing back to a few weeks ago when Justin broke off our kiss and fled. My eyes search frantically for his, but he is smiling roguishly at me, and my panic quickly recedes. He removes his hand from my cheek and brushes my hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lauren, may I?” I don’t precisely know what he’s asking, but I would give this man practically anything right now. I just nod at him. Jeez, Lauren, pull yourself together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He leans in and kisses me again, this time slow and languid, and yet it’s somehow needier than before, more full of wanting and taking. Then Justin is sweeping me off my feet, his strong arms lifting me up and cradling me close, his lips never leaving mine. I let out a thrilled squeal of surprise, breaking away from his kiss for a just a minute before he covers my mouth with his lips again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Between kisses, he asks me, breathily, “Which way?” My brain must be more befuddled by wine than I realized, because it takes me a few seconds to understand what he’s asking. Which way… To. My. Bedroom.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s only one hallway off the main living area of my apartment, but either he’s used to living in a much larger house with a more complicated layout or he’s giving me one last chance to turn him down. Probably a little bit of both, I decide.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I nod my head towards the darkened hallway, and Justin carries me confidently through the hall, past the bathroom, and towards my bedroom at the end. It’s only a one bedroom apartment so no further directions are required.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He turns sideways as we enter the room, so that my head and feet don’t bang against the doorframe. Ever the gallant gentleman. In the dark, I can see the whites of his eyes and the faint outline of his form, but I can’t read his expression.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Justin?” I ask gently, not really sure what I’m asking him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lauren,” he responds, then sets me down gently on my bed. He stands before me, and I just look up at him in wonder. Justin Mercado is standing above me in my bedroom.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gets down on his knees in front of me, placing a hand on my leg and reaching up to cup my face with his other hand. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Lauren</span>
  </em>
  <span>…” he says again, and this time is voice is low and sultry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I reach forward and begin to fumble with the buttons on his shirt. A memory flashes through my mind as I recall another time my fingers undid the buttons of another similar, also very expensive shirt. A blush surely creeps across my face, but thankfully Justin won’t be able to see it in the dark.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you blushing, Lauren?” he asks playfully. What the hell? Can he read minds now?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ummm… no?” I mutter. He laughs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here, let me.” He takes over unbuttoning his shirt, his fingers brushing against mine as they nudge my hands out of the way. My skin tingles at the contact. Now that my fingers are unoccupied, I decide to run them through his luscious hair. He pauses for a moment, a sigh of pleasure rumbling through his chest before he finishes unbuttoning his shirt. I think Justin just </span>
  <em>
    <span>purred</span>
  </em>
  <span>. So sexy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shrugs out of his shirt and lets it drop to the floor. I really do need to get him to tell me if that shirt costs as much as my rent.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Justin still kneels before me, shirtless now. I can feel the heat of his gaze upon me even in the dark of the room. At nearly the same moment—I’m not really sure which one of us moves first—I raise my arms up over my head and Justin reaches for the hem of my sweater. A giddy laugh escapes my lips as he pulls my sweater up, tugging it over my head and then casting it aside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>We sit there for a moment, two shirtless adults in a darkened room, when suddenly Justin surges forward, capturing my lips as he pushes me back down onto the bed, hands planted on either side of me, trapping me beneath him. Fuck, he is so sexy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of their own accord, my hands reach forward and find the waistband of his pants. His breathing hitches as my fingers fumble with his belt. His lips leave mine and begin to make their way along my jaw, planting slow, heated kisses until he reaches the place just below my ear. As I slide the belt from his pants, I feel his breath on my ear. “Lauren, you are </span>
  <em>
    <span>soo</span>
  </em>
  <span> sexy,” he croons.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The clang of his belt buckle hitting the floor of my bedroom rings loudly in the silence of the room. I turn my head slightly and whisper into his own ear, “Mmm, so are you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He captures my mouth in another kiss, my lips beginning to grow tender from his ravenous kisses. I slide my fingers along the waistband of his pants, then slowly unbutton them. I reach for the zipper, but Justin pulls back from me. He scoots backwards off the bed, getting to his feet. I prop myself upon my elbows to try and get a better look at him. My eyes are starting to adjust to the darkness, and I can see his silhouetted form as he unzips his pants and slides them down to the floor. He crouches a little and then steps out of them, pausing just a moment to kick off his shoes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I bite my lower lip as I take in the sight of Justin Mercado standing before me in only his briefs. Have I mentioned how </span>
  <em>
    <span>sexy</span>
  </em>
  <span> this man is?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come here,” I whisper, trying to sound as sultry as possible. Did I sound sultry or pleading? Come on, Lauren, you don’t want to sound too desperate.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He lets out a sound that sounds almost like a growl and lunges forward, pouncing on top of me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey!” I squeal, laughing as his body covers mine, his mouth nuzzling space between my neck and shoulder while his fingers begin to tickle my side. Wait, is he really tickling me right now?!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Justin! What are you doing?” I gasp between laughs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pauses for a moment, then pulls his head back, gazing into my eyes. Even in the dim light, I can see they are surprisingly serious. “I don’t know... I just wanted to hear you laugh,” he says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, Justin,” I say tenderly, reaching up to cup his cheek with my hand. I arch up and press my lips to his.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I pull away, then bring my hands down to my own hips, hooking my fingers in the waistband of my leggings. I have to curve my body towards him a little so that I can slide them down over my hips, and I feel his body stiffen above me. I can only slide them down so far with him leaning over me, so I lay back on the bed and give him what I hope is a smoldering look.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A little help, please?” I raise one eyebrow and smile seductively at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you ever asked me for my help before?” he asks, chuckling softly. He plants a long kiss on my lips, then starts to kiss down my neck and chest. My heart races as his lips brush along my breasts, teasing the fabric there. My breath catches in my throat as his kisses drift south. As he moves lower, his hands find their way to my leggings and begin to tug them down my legs. His lips pause on my stomach, his tongue tracing a lazy circle there, as I shift my legs a little to help him finally dislodge them from my pants.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My body feels hot and tingly as I realize how little clothing separates us. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Justin…” I whisper his name and he pauses, glancing up at me. I have never seen anything sexier than this man gazing up at me. He grins that infuriatingly sexy smile of his, then dips his head down again, trailing his tongue lower until his teeth graze the sensitive skin just above my panties.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I’m barely aware of having said it when a word escapes my lips. “Please,” I moan, unable to take his teasing any longer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please what?” he asks, his breath hot against the fabric of my panties.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just… </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span>…” I reply, writhing a little beneath him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, since you asked so </span>
  <em>
    <span>nicely</span>
  </em>
  <span>…” he laughs, then grasps my thighs and spreads them apart, pushing me further onto the bed. He leans forward, crawling towards me until he settles on his side next to me. I turn my head towards him and he immediately captures my lips in another kiss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before I can wonder where this is headed, I feel Justin’s hand on my neck. He begins to slide his hand down, possessively, and my skin sings at the contact. As his hand cups my left breast, he gives it a gentle squeeze. I moan into his mouth, and I can feel him smile against me. His hand slides lower, caressing my hip and coming to rest on my thigh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m going to ask you one time, Lauren,” Justin murmurs between slow kisses.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mmmm?” I reply, nearly senseless from his caressing touch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you want, Lauren?” he asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His kisses pause for a moment as he waits for my answer. I bring my left hand up and run it through his hair, letting my fingers play with the hairs on the back of his neck. I feel him shiver.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Justin,” I say pointedly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Our lips crash together again, and at the same moment, he moves his hand from my thigh to the waistband of my panties. His fingers linger there for a moment, as if he is still waiting for permission, even though I just gave it to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I shift my hips upward slightly in invitation, and he accepts, letting his hand dip beneath the fabric. When his fingers finally reach that spot at the apex of my thighs, I know I can’t hide how much I want him any longer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Justin was either expecting that or is rolling with it, because he doesn’t lose a beat. He begins to move his fingers in slow circles, applying just enough pressure to drive me crazy. I forget that I’m supposed to be kissing him back and my mouth just hangs slightly open, my attention focused on that one sensitive spot. He begins to kiss my jaw, then forces me to tilt my head back a little as he nuzzles me affectionately, nipping along my neck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I can barely think straight, and my arms lie unmoving, posed above my head. I am just lying here, and this man is playing my body like it’s an instrument he knows all too well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly, I realize that Justin’s teeth are teasing at the right cup of my bra. He grasps the fabric firmly between his teeth and tugs it down, fully exposing my right breast. The exposed nipple is peaked in the cold air. And while his fingers continue their languid movements below, Justin lowers his mouth to my breast and takes my nipple between his lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My breath catches in my throat and I gasp loudly in pleasure. Justin releases my nipple, giving it a quick flick with his tongue, before murmuring, “Lauren, I want you to cum for me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He begins to suckle at my breast, letting his teeth gently graze across my nipple. At the same time, I feel his hand shift lower, his fingers slow and teasing. Warmth pulses through me and I moan again, shifting on the bed, spreading my legs wider for him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s it, Lauren,” he murmurs softly, then gently slips a deft finger inside of me. The dual sensations of his mouth on my breast and his finger sliding slowly in and out of me become almost too much to bear. My eyes are squeezed tightly shut and my head is still thrown back against the pillows of the bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He adds a second finger, and my breath begins to grow ragged. I’m practically panting now, my thoughts splintering into a million pieces. God oh god oh god.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Justin, right </span>
  <em>
    <span>there</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” I moan, my hips bucking involuntarily towards his thrusting movements. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What he does next, finally undoes me. He inserts a third finger, curling them gently as he thrusts them inside me, reaching for that sensitive spot. At the same time, he gives a particularly strong suck to my already tender nipple. I’m done. Fuck, I’m done.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I feel myself begin to clench around him, an orgasm beginning to grip me. I cry out, arching my neck and grasping at the sheets.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, yes! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Justin</span>
  </em>
  <span>…” Waves of ecstasy roll through me, and Justin slows his movements but doesn’t stop them entirely, drawing out continued tingling pulses of pleasure. My cries turn to whimpers between gasping breaths, and he finally stops, withdrawing his fingers and pulling his head back from my breast.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He says nothing for a minute, so I guess that he is looking at me, waiting for me to open my eyes. I do, and his face is close to mine, gazing intently down at me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, do you forgive me?” he asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I stare at him in disbelief for a moment, then let out a hearty laugh. He smiles back at me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, you fool. I said I did, didn’t I?” I did say I forgave him, right?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He just raises an eyebrow at me, then kisses my tender lips. “It must have slipped your mind for some reason.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can’t imagine why,” I murmur between kisses. “Maybe you should try </span>
  <em>
    <span>apologizing</span>
  </em>
  <span> again,” I say with a soft chuckle, waggling my eyebrows suggestively at him in the dark.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He laughs. “Mmm, maybe I will."</span>
</p>
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